“So how come you haven’t spoken in all the time I knew you in Mrs. Reagan’s class?” Madelynn asked Kimberly.
“I don’t like most people; you guys seem okay, though.”
“We’re all cool here except for Morgan,” I jested.
“Boy, if you don’t,” he said with an embarrassed look, shaking a fist at me and laughing.
As everyone talked about school and what they’d do once they came home, I zoned out and started focusing on the walls instead. At first, I thought it was my imagination, but I soon knew it wasn’t when I saw past and future events playing out on the wall in no specific order. One precise moment that stood out to me was the Battle of the Somme; I knew that’s what it was based on what they taught us in history class. I saw artillery firing at soldiers in trenches, and what appeared to
